Ribbon Salad

My mom, a young married woman with no children yet, sat guiltily in her seat at her in-law's kitchen table. It was lunch time and leftovers from the night before were being pulled out of the fridge for the noonday meal.

Her mother-in-law's voice rung out from the depths of the fridge in a distinct Maine accent, "Well, I was sure I put a whole ribbon salad away last night, but here there are two pieces missing!" 

My mom looked down at her plate and busied herself with the silverware as her sisters-in-law began trying to pinpoint the guilty party.

Peanut Butter Fudge

Some things just never seem to change, especially at Christmastime. Traditions passed down and revisited, season after season. Childhood memories turning into adult ones, as you teach your own children about the things you treasure.

Going to my grandparents in Maine for Christmas was rich in these traditions. The Fraser fir, wired to the wall and decorated with old glass balls, colored lights, and homemade ornaments bearing grandchildren's faces beaming among the branches. The vintage, light-up star, slightly battered, but cheerfully gracing the top of the tree. 

Jam Thumbprints

These cookies always remind me of my sister. She doesn't have much of a sweet tooth (I must have gotten the bulk of that gene) and doesn't care a whole lot for most cakes and cookies. But she loves these jam thumbprints, so called for the indentation you make with your thumb to create a spot for a bit of jam. She makes them every year at Christmas. 

They are dense little cookies, almost like shortbread, encrusted with chopped pecans and ornamented with a lovely spot of bright, red jam. The cookie itself isn't terribly sweet, but the jam gives it that little punch of sugar that balances everything out. 

Devil's Food Cake with Glossy Chocolate Icing

Monday was my little Jack's second birthday. I've decided that I love birthdays. How fun is it to spend a whole day remembering and celebrating the little life that follows you around all year? A year full of learning and growing, making messes and cleaning them up, butting heads and asking for forgiveness, some tears and many smiles. 

We spent the day simply. Blueberry pancakes for breakfast, cake and presents when Daddy got home.  My mom was here as well which made it extra special. 

Speaking of cake, while I love baking, I don't consider myself a crafty, decorate-cakes-to-look-like-elmo kind of person. BUT when I saw this cake on Facebook, I couldn't resist. 

My Jack loves trucks. We will be in the kitchen and the faint rumble of the garbage truck sounds in the background. Jack will perk up, say "Tuck" and go running for the front window. We will be in the car, passing semi's on the highway and I hear from the backseat, "Tuck! Tuck!" He will spend the bulk of his day pushing mini trucks and tractor trailers around the room, parking them just so. We spend our bedtime hours reading Construction Alphabet and Little Blue Truck. 

So there wasn't even a small hesitation. Construction cake was it.

Grammy's Crescent Rolls

I can't imagine a holiday meal in my family without these rolls. My mom bakes them off at the very last minute, usually finishing the second pan while everyone is eating their first bites of dinner. While there are many delicious things on the holiday table, everyone goes for a roll first. 

The basket, mounded high with crescents, is passed. Hot off the baking sheet, they melt in your mouth with buttery goodness. Layer upon soft layer, dripping with melted butter, the strong smell of yeast wafting upward with the steam. People "ooh" and "ahh" over the ham and the applesauce and the stuffing, but the refrain is heard over and over, "Please pass the rolls." 

Wendy's Cranberry Salad

I met my mother-in-law before I even met my husband. I like to tease him that he stood me up on a double date to the amusement park, but he swears it doesn't count. Anyway, I met his parents for lunch that day and instantly felt comfortable. Such gracious people. 

Wendy Jo is a spunky women that raised four energetic boys---each two years apart, sporting dark hair, brown eyes and no shirts in summer. She's a tomboy at heart, happiest when she's outdoors, enjoying nature and sunshine. She even had a pet squirrel in high school. She holds onto material things loosely and people tightly. I've never seen her be anything but warm and loving to the people who filter through her home. When anything disquieting happens, she simply says, "I'll pray about that" and you know she is. 

The entire family gathered together for thanksgiving this year. Twelve people, down to the littlest newborn, arranged at a long table down the center of the living room. There was turkey and stuffing and sweet potatoes, the normal delicious fare. And this cranberry salad. A vibrant, crunchy side, filled with fruits and veggies and nuts. I've never had it anywhere else and look forward to it every thanksgiving we spend with Brad's side of the family. It reminds me of her---bright, sweet and chock-full of good things. 

Corn Pudding

My parents came to visit last week. Since we were together (and won't be on Thanksgiving), we decided to do an early Thanksgiving feast. I'm not brave enough to tackle a turkey yet, so we did roast beef, complete with veggies and gravy. There was homemade applesauce and my Grammy's crescent rolls and dill pickles. Salad for my dad, pies for dessert and this corn pudding. 

It's a recipe my mom tweaked, using corn that we process and freeze ourselves. Many corn pudding recipes call for cornbread mix and cans of creamed corn. But this recipe uses simple, real ingredients that make all the difference in taste. Don't believe me? The proof is in the pudding. 

Pumpkin Pie

"Pie is part of the family."

This is what my husband said when I asked him to describe the role of pie in my family. 

We cracked up laughing because it's so true. It would not be Thanksgiving or Christmas without many assortments of pie. It would not be my birthday without a strawberry pie. It would not be a trip home without a showing of one or two pies. 

How-To: Pumpkin Puree

I grew up on pie that started with an actual pumpkin. I remember, as a girl, watching my mom cut up a pumpkin, steam the skin off, cook it down and process it through a food mill. And only then came the actual pie making.

It instilled in me a love for pie made truly from scratch. I love the texture and flavor of pie made from a real pumpkin. Of course, it's a lot to do in one day. So now I make the puree on one day and then the pie on another. Or I freeze the pumpkin puree and store it up for a surprise pie in the winter. 

As with a lot of food processing, it may seem a little daunting. But the thing I like about it is that you do it in steps and the steps can be completed while you do other things during your day. The pumpkin steams while you are doing dishes, or eating lunch. And then it cools while your chasing your kids around or running to the store for a forgotten ingredient. Real food made while doing real life. 

Pumpkin Sheet Cake

I really enjoyed Halloween last year. My family didn't do much with the holiday growing up. We lived way out in the country and I only remember someone coming to the door for candy once! But last year was Jack's first Halloween, and one of our first in our new home. My sister was living with us at the time and she was really the impetus behind getting Jack dressed up. We decided on a lumberjack costume, dressing him up in a flannel shirt, carhartts, a beanie hat and an axe made out of a toilet paper tube and tin foil. And to complete the look, a scruffy little beard fashioned out of mascara on my sweet ten-month old's face. 

He was so cute. 

Chicken Noodle Soup

There's something about chicken noodle soup that speaks of home. Maybe it's the warm broth, soothing many a sore throat or steaming red faces fresh out of the snow banks. Or maybe it's the tender chicken and perfectly cooked veggies, wholesome goodness that fills hungry stomachs. Or it could be the noodles, each one slightly different, homemade and hearty.

How-To: Homemade Noodles

Homemade noodles can take a soup from good to amazing. There's something about the texture of a homemade noodle that leaps past the cookie-cutter sameness of store-bought and gives a soup individuality. Store-bought noodles tend to be a little bland and they slip right off your spoon before you are able to get them to your mouth. Homemade noodles are different. Toothsome. Hearty. They put the love in your soup.

Pumpkin Bread

I remember the first time that I had this bread. I think I was about eight or nine years old. We went to a friend's house for dinner after church. It must have been late fall or early winter because I remember it being cold outside. We all sat down to eat dinner and I nervously eyed what lay on the table. I tend to be a picky eater and always dreaded going to someone's house because I was afraid that I wouldn't like what they served. And when you are eight, such things are very important. 

That's when I spied the pumpkin bread in the basket across from me. Ah, here was something I knew that I liked. I don't remember much about the rest of the meal. I'm sure it was all tasty stuff. But I do remember I ate a lot of that bread. I think the hostess noticed too because she gave me the recipe before I left and I've been making it ever since. 

Molasses Crinkles

There's nothing better than getting something in the mail from someone you love. Whether it's a letter, flowers to cheer a dreary day or a homemade treat when you're far away, it's nice to be remembered. 

This seemed to be especially true when I was in college. Package notifications always brought out expectant smiles and quickened my pace to the student center. 

Corn Chowder

Car rides to Maine to visit my grandparents always ended the same. We'd pull into the driveway, the tall red barn standing sentinel on one side of the driveway and the light beckoning welcome from the breezeway on the other. We'd pile out of the car and pass through the porch into the kitchen, usually eyeing a pie or two that sat on the washer to keep cool. Hugs would be given all around, car trip woes related and then we'd sit down for a bite, despite the late hour. 

Really Good French Toast

Decadent. 

I think that's the best word to describe this recipe. Definitely delicious. Definitely Amazing. But mostly, decadent. 

My mom started making this recipe when I was in high school and we all immediately fell in love with it. We would often have it for birthday breakfasts, or let's face it, weeknight suppers. 

Orange Jello Salad

I am fortunate to remember knowing three of my great-grandparents, all on my mom's side. Grandma Tippie-Toes, mom's paternal grandmother lived to be 101 and died when I was a teenager. I have many memories of laughing at her quirky ways and funny sayings. Grandpa Armond and Grandma Dorothy, mom's maternal grandparents, died when I was four, so my memories of them are few, but vivid. 

How To: Freezer Corn

A few weeks ago, I drove out to Amish country and met my mother-in-law at the local farmer's market. It's an enormous sprawling thing with vendors selling anything and everything that can be homemade or grown on the farm. Here someone is selling candies, red fireballs and sugar-dusted gummies and proud looking chocolates, smartly decorated. A lady calls out to look at her fresh baked bread, oatmeal and wheat and cinnamon raisin. The smell of yeast is hard to resist as you pass her by. Another proudly shows her canned goods, peach preserves and raspberry jams standing at attention, tempting you to buy a jar and revisit the baked goods. And then there is the produce. Rows of green and red peppers, bins of green beans and snap peas, peaches and plums carefully placed in baskets, and buckets of unshucked corn. 

Key Lime Pie

Summer is winding down. The days aren't quite so hot and there's a cool breeze playing with my long white drapes. The sycamores are dropping crunchy brown leaves, littering my lawn with their offerings. It's the last week of August and moms are frantically trying to prepare for those first days of school. And I even made an apple crumble the other day. 

Blueberry Muffins or A Morning on a Lake in Maine

It was early morning when my sister and I pulled on our jeans and flannel shirts and snuck out the back door, taking care not to wake the sleepers on the porch. The day before had been chilly and windy, making the lake choppy and unfit for boating. But this morning my eyes had flown open with the realization that I could not hear the breaking of waves on the rocky shoreline. The lake was still. 

How To: Lemonade

Is there anything as refreshing as lemonade on a hot summer day? 

Bruschetta

We attempted a very small garden this year. Just a cherry tomato, a few pepper plants and some herbs. However, looking at my small plot of earth you don't even notice the little pepper plants and ground-hugging herbs. The tomato has completely taken over. It's almost comical. These minuscule tomatoes growing on this gargantuan plant. It has scrambled over the edges of the cage, reaching long with its branches. It has spilled over onto the sidewalk and is creeping up my back steps. The other plants are hidden in a kind of tomato bower, probably feeling smothered and wondering if the sun will ever shine again. 

Chicken and Basil Cream

Every home has a gathering place. For some it's the den or family room, all gathered around, watching sports or playing games. For some it's a spot on the porch or patio, sipping lemonade while kids splash in the pool or roasting marshmallows around an open fire. For our family, in the home I grew up in, it's the kitchen. 

Chocolate Sauce

It was one of those still summer evenings when the air hangs thickly, too heavy for movement, sticking closer than you'd like. It had been a hot day, and though the sun had set, the earth wasn't ready to give in to the coolness just yet. In the dusk, fireflies began to twinkle from their hidden hollows, gathering courage to take flight as the backdrop of night came on. A glistening frog leapt into the pond, sending ripples of consequence across the glassy surface, while peepers and cicadas gave voice in the evening air.

Skillet Pizza

When I was newly married, my mom bought me a cookbook that specialized in recipes for two people. I was getting tired of recipes that made so much that we'd have leftovers for a week (and so was my husband) and I eagerly began scanning the cookbook for recipes. 

One of my early successes was this pizza and it's since become a family favorite. Browning the pizza in a skillet before popping it in the oven gives it a super crispy crust that we love. And it's super fast, just 3 minutes on the stovetop and 7 in the oven.

We love it so much, I'm pretty sure we will have to invest in another skillet as our family expands!

How-To: Pizza Sauce

I love this no-cook pizza sauce. It's easy, garlicky and tastes so good on pizza or used as a dipping sauce for stromboli.

The recipe calls for canned diced tomatoes, but I'm sure you could use fresh too.

Jello Cake

Usually I try to stick with recipes that use real ingredients. I am not opposed to using butter and sugar and cream, but I try to avoid processed, convenience food.

Except for sometimes. Like when it's really hot in the summer and all I can think of is taking a bite of cool, refreshing jello cake. Jello cake is not real. Cake mix. Jello packets. And cool-whip. Fake, fake, fake. But yummy, and surely okay two or three times a summer.

How-To: Pizza Dough

Is it just me or is delivery pizza costing a lot these days? I think our last pizza pie cost something like $17. The convenience is so nice some nights, but I always feel guilty knowing that I can make my own for less than $4. 

And it tastes so yummy. Every time I make my own, I swear I won't buy delivery again.

Chocolate "Declare"

Summertime is the season of vacation. And vacation with family is always the best. Hellos and warm hugs that have waited all year to be given, piles of cousins getting to know one another again, warm sun and cool water, laughter in the kitchen and around the table. 

Baked Ziti

Ziti is one of my favorite company meals. It can be made ahead, it's satisfying and almost everyone likes it, especially children. And this recipe is so good. It's not a dump-everything-in-and-bake kinda dish, but the few extra steps reward you with tender noodles, punctuated by cheesy goodness and a bright, tomato sauce. 

Sweet and Sour Meatballs

I love old family photos. The black and white kind. My parents and grandparents as they used to be.  Young children, chubby cheeked and precocious, with large silk bows perched atop their curls or looking uncomfortable in knickers and buttoned-up shirt. Or maybe as young adults, flashing beautiful, carefree smiles, dressed in the classiest of dresses or looking handsome in uniform. Little moments, captured at a time when all of life was before them. 

How-To: Knead Dough

Kneading bread dough is something that causes many new bakers to blanch and turn quickly to a different recipe. It seems daunting and difficult, something that died out with our great-grandmothers.

But kneading is so fun! Remember when you were a kid and you used to sit at your mom's kitchen table and make all sorts of fun fake foods out of Play-Doh? Kneading gives you the chance, as an adult, to get your hands into a lump of dough and transform it into something beautiful. Kneading can seem intimidating and scary, and there are some guidelines to follow, but really what you're doing is playing with dough!

Pudding Drop Cookies

There's nothing like getting a package in the mail. 

Particularly when you are a starving-for-good-food college student. And particularly when you see your mother's name as the return sender. 

Grammy's White Bread

My Grammy turned 93 on Wednesday. 93 years. Most of them spent tending gardens, pickling produce, planning suppers and baking bread. In a house built by a young husband for his young wife many years ago. 

On the breezeway, the mid-afternoon sun warms the row of freshly picked cucumbers, still glistening from their bath with the garden hose. Two steps up into the porch where piles of shoes, a bucket of clothespins and hung up coats all have their place. An assortment of pies, strawberry, pecan and chocolate, placed precariously on the washer and dryer, catch your eye as you pass through. A curtained door leads into a faded kitchen, alive with the bustle of getting supper on and the smell of homemade food.

Rice Pudding

My son was sick last week. The really sad kind of sick where he just hung in my arms, forehead hot with fever and cheek squished against my shoulder, snoring softly through his open mouth. The kind of sick where nothing gets done and its perfectly ok because the little one needs his mommy more than a clean house and a gourmet supper.

How To: Scrambled Eggs

There's not much better than breakfast together on a warm and sunny Saturday, when the schedule is open and nothing presses for your attention but your cup of coffee.

Quicky Sticky Buns

"What's for dinner?" the question that brings a sinking feeling and blank stares from every mother. My mom particularly disliked hearing this question on the way home from church. Sundays, though wonderful and worth it, can be tiring. After a busy morning and putting on a big lunch, the last thing she wanted to do was come up with a creative, inspired dish for dinner.

Cornbread

There's something about a good chili that just begs to be paired with cornbread. The meat and bean dish needs the simple heartiness cornbread offers and chili's take-your-breath-away heat is somehow tempered by the bread's neutral corn flavor.

Beef Chili

I really don't like beans. 

Not pinto. Or Kidney. Or Lima. Or any of them. 

Yuck. 

My aversion to these legumes has always been problematic when it comes to chili. Most people will tell you that chili just isn't the same without the beans. 

Anadama Bread

There's something about the feel of dough under the hand. The process of transforming flour, water, salt and yeast to something of substance. The rhythm of push-fold-turn, push-fold-turn. Bread feels alive when you knead it. You can feel it resist and stretch. It takes strength and energy, up close and personal. Floured hands shaping and turning and pushing. Spending myself to make something beautiful. The satisfaction of a properly kneaded dough, heavy in the hand and soft to the touch, as smooth as a little baby's bum. I love to knead bread.

Stuffed Peppers for Two

Do you remember being a kid and the wonder of playing outdoors? The sense of adventure and freedom that it brought? The thrill of feeling fresh air on your face and the possibilities contained in having all the elements of nature at your disposal? A low, crumbling wall becomes the towering bulwark of a besieged fort and a small grouping of birches becomes a fairy den. Sticks becomes medieval swords, a rotting stump a devilish mountain and a blossoming apple tree a private bower hiding you from the all-too-eager-to-join-in younger sibling.

Simple Meatloaf

Let's face it; meatloaf doesn't usually make the "Top Ten" of favorite foods. It's a humble dish that is mostly unattractive and some versions are downright scary. The list of ingredients for this unassuming entree is as varied as can be with gems like hot dogs or hard-boiled eggs. A quick perusal of a cookbook on my shelf grabs your attention with appealing titles like "Zucchini Meatloaf", "Potato-Frosted Meatloaf" and "Pizza Meatloaf."

Yes, really, pizza meatloaf. Need I say more?

Spaghetti Pie

I love lasagna, but sometimes it's too much work. There's all those slippery noodles to deal with, layer upon layer to build and a cheesy filling to mix up. Sometimes I want something slightly simpler, but just as tasty.

Macaroni & Cheese: Two Versions

Almost nothing speaks to the nostalgic heart more than macaroni and cheese. Homemade and hot from the oven with a bite of cheddar and perhaps a blush of heat. A rich and creamy sauce folded over and under and into every crevice of every tender noodle. Love dripping with every spoonful.

Buttermilk Pancakes or The Birth of a Family Tradition

It was one of those lazy Saturday mornings growing up. My maternal grandparents had come up for the day and we were enjoying a late breakfast on a sunny, weekend morning. Chairs were pushed slightly back from the table, bellies were patted with satisfaction and my sister and I listened to the low murmur of story-telling with an eagerness that comes with the hunger to be "grown-up." That moment where it's time to clean up but no one wants to hung in the air and a few ignored pancakes lay in the center of the table.

And then, "Thwap!"

A golden pancake hurtled through the air and landed squarely on the side of my dad's face.